...is that I work too much. So much so it's hindered the enjoyment of my life. How you ask? Well, let me tell you. I have been in the middle of a big pitch at work. One in which that has, as always, an insanely tight turnaround, and a lot of illustration needs on my part. Enough that it demanded my time over the weekend. Which, I was, for the most part, okay with. The guy heading up the pitch is by far one of the few people I can say embodies a "good" person, so I gladly gave my time to help. A lot of canceled plans, late hours, and all nighters.
Come Monday. Feeling pretty good.
Then came the news that additional art needed to be produced. Wasn't stressing about that one, like I said, happy to help the guy in charge. But the frustration came when 5 pm hit and I was certain that I would have to cancel my plans for the evening. One that included volunteer work, but more immediately co-workers were headed to the blessed happy hour after work. Normally not a big thing that I couldn't go with, but a girl I'm crushing a little bit on was going too.
So that kinda sucked.
I have to say it was hard not to get a little salty as work rolled into the evening.
Damn you RFP, take my weekend, take my evening...
..but hey, the pitch book looks good.
*and a disclaimer to any of my co-workers who may come across this. I love my job, I love my co-workers. Just sometimes, as I am sure you can agree, the job gets a little needy, and it can be overwhelming and frustrating. No one's fault, just the nature of the beast, and this is just my moment to vent.
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2 comments:
No disclaimer needed my friend. Working late/on weekends sucks and blows. At the same time. Not sure how that works, but Bart Simpson said it so I thought I would, too.
I can do Bora Bora. I'll need a copy of your social security card and several references for your application. Thanks.
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